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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26678257">the words you never knew were in your head</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander'>Lire_Casander</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>nothing ever goes the right way [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Fluff, Handwaved Medical Stuff, M/M, Mentions of hospitals, injuries</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:47:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,665</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26678257</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>tk finds himself with a swollen knee. carlos insists on taking care of him</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carlos Reyes/TK Strand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>nothing ever goes the right way [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943992</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>132</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the words you never knew were in your head</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlyhairedgirl/gifts">curlyhairedgirl</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>written for <a href="https://tarlosweek2020.tumblr.com/">tarlosweek2020</a>, <b><i>day 1: favorite kiss + are you wearing my hoodie? + fluff</i></b></p><p>written for <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlyhairedgirl/pseuds/curlyhairedgirl/works?fandom_id=37310182">Vicky</a>, who asked for <b><i>i will slow you down</i></b> out of my <a href="https://lire-casander.tumblr.com/post/626174763915722752/welcome-to-my-very-own-bad-things-happen-bingo">bad things happen bingo card</a></p><p>beta’ed by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly/pseuds/meloingly">meloingly</a>. any remaining mistakes are my own.</p><p>title from <i>Breaktown</i> by Hanson</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun is shyly peeking on the horizon when TK opens his eyes, confused at first by the unfamiliarity of the room he's in. He shakes his head to clear the disorientation and reaches out to Carlos, finding his warm body curled up underneath the sheets. TK can't help the smile that bubbles up in his face at the sight of his <i>boyfriend</i> sleeping calmly on a hotel bed. He bites down on his lower lip to keep at bay the giddy giggle threatening to come out. </p><p>He doesn't want to wake Carlos up, not yet. He has big plans for this morning, but first, there’s someplace he needs to go before it becomes a national emergency.</p><p>Gently, he pushes the covers aside and lets his feet swing on the side. TK doesn’t want to turn on any lights, so he chooses to tiptoe around the room to find his way to the bathroom. But he miscalculates the space between the bed and the bathroom door, and even if it’s not the first night they’ve both spent at this New York City hotel, TK manages to hit his toes against the bedside table leg. He lets out a choked curse; he turns around to make sure Carlos is still asleep and somehow, along with the motion, TK finds himself losing balance and colliding against the very same bedside table he has tried to avoid. He attempts to stop his fall by clutching the mattress, but he miscalculates again and ends up grappling a handful of the covers.</p><p>With a graceless <i>thump</i> and a yelp, TK collapses on the floor, right knee first, surrounded by the bedsheets and at least one of the pillows.</p><p>“TK?” he hears as he’s biting down a cry as pain flares up from his knee to his hip.</p><p>Too much for not waking Carlos up.</p><p>“I’m fine,” he grits out. His hands are balled up so tightly into fists that his nails are drawing blood, but he can’t let Carlos know he’s hurt. “I just... stumbled.”</p><p>“You’ve just stumbled onto the floor and dragged the blankets with you?” Carlos asks, voice still rough with sleep. TK can see how his head is peeking out from behind what’s left of the bed covers actually <i>on</i> the bed, and he can tell the exact moment when Carlos realizes what’s going on. His boyfriend reaches blindly for the night lamp, and all of a sudden the room is filled with a soft orange light that attacks TKʼs eyes, already used to the darkness. He braces himself for the jokes Carlos is going to make — he knows what he must look like, a heap of flesh and bones awkwardly piled against the bed where he should have never, <i>ever</i>, left — only to look up and see worry in those beautifully warm brown eyes.</p><p>“What?” he snaps. “I—” Whatever snarky remark he’s going to make is lost in the groan that escapes his mouth when he tries to move up to his feet. His right knee just won’t cooperate — it simply won’t stretch.</p><p>“Oh, TK, where does it hurt?” Carlos asks, promptly jumping out of the bed and kneeling beside him. “Where does it hurt, TK?”</p><p>“It’s nothing,” TK tries to say, but the words come out slurred because he’s trying to get up and his leg isn’t working. The pain is almost unbearable at this point — it’s as though there is a herd of elephants stampeding from his ankle to his hip, thousands of nails crawling up, up, up until all he can feel is the deafening ache taking over his whole body.</p><p>“It’s <i>not</i> nothing, TK,” Carlos retorts sensibly, his hands softly touching TK’s side. “God, TK, you’re trembling. Is it your leg? I think your knee is swelling.”</p><p>“It can’t be <i>swelling</i>,” TK laments. “It’s just a tiny blow, a totally idiot move, I was just going to the bathroom and I stumbled and then I was falling and—” He trails off, hissing in pain as his hand goes to cup his knee.</p><p><i>Fuck</i>, he thinks. <i>It’s really swelling up</i>.</p><p>“And you fell on your knee,” Carlos finishes his sentence when TK can’t. “On the same knee you strained last week during that pile-up?”</p><p>“Yes,” TK mutters, the pain too strong now to be hidden any longer. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”</p><p>“No,” Carlos reassures him as he helps TK to get up and sit on the bed. “You’re a bit clumsy.”</p><p>“I’m an idiot,” TK repeats, ignoring his boyfriend’s words. “Who else trips over his own feet and hurts one perfectly good knee?”</p><p>“One,” Carlos tells him sternly, lifting one finger in front of TK’s face. “That knee wasn’t perfectly good. The doctor said to take it easy for a couple of weeks. And two, maybe you’re an idiot,” he keeps going, placing his fingertip on TK’s lips when he tries to interrupt. “But you’re my idiot.”</p><p>TK wants to reply with a witty line, but he really can't say anything when he’s melting under Carlos' gaze. </p><p>“We need to take you to a hospital,” Carlos is saying, completely unaware of the effect his touch has on TK. “I don't like the way this knee is looking.” </p><p>“No,” TK replies all too hotly. “If we go now to the ER, it might take a while to get out. Night shifts are always the worst. We'll never make it to that luncheon with the NYPD. And weʼre here for that.” </p><p>“Weʼre not here just for that, Ty,” Carlos tells him. “The luncheon is just a part of the Interstate Police Olympics, but we are definitely not going now. You can barely move. Off to the hospital, it is.” </p><p>“But that luncheon is thrown in <i>your</i> honor, Officer Reyes!” TK protests. “After all, Kinkaid and you won over all those uptight New Yorkers!”</p><p>“I can’t believe I didn’t record you saying <i>uptight New Yorkers</i>,” Carlos mocks. “Your father would have had a stroke. Remember when you were one of them? I doubt you’ve ever stopped being one.”</p><p>“Oh, hey, let me tell you—” TK tries to reply wittily, but he’s cut off by his knee choosing that exact moment to send sharp pulses of pain through him.</p><p>“Take it easy, Tk,” Carlos tells him. “Now, sit here and wait for me. I’m taking you to the hospital.”</p><p>Carlos stands up and walks to their suitcases, forgotten by the entrance door in their rush to reach the bed the night before to celebrate, after the representation of Austin Police Department — in the form of one fit Carlos Reyes and his even fitter partner Rose Kinkaid — had won over the last two physicals from the Interstate Police Olympics held in New York for the first time since forever. He rummages through both of them and comes back with a pair of loose sweatpants and a hoodie in his hands. “C'mon, let's get you dressed.”</p><p>TK wants to protest, but he knows it's to no avail the moment he locks eyes with Carlos and sees determination staring back at him. There’s no way his boyfriend is ever letting him out of this hotel room if not to go to a hospital to get his knee checked, and even though a part of him wants to refuse, the pain in his knee is starting to become unbearable as it is. </p><p>“I will call reception to ask for the nearest hospital,” Carlos is saying. “Do you think you can put on those clothes without help?” </p><p>TK stares at the pants and nods with a confidence he really doesn’t feel. “There’s no need to alert reception,” he tells his boyfriend. “I know which hospital is closer. New York kid, remember? Just gimme a few minutes to put these on. And you should get dressed as well,” he continues, nodding at Carlosʼ state of nakedness — as much as he enjoys the sight of his boyfriend in nothing but boxer briefs, he knows there’s not a chance they're actually leaving the room if Carlos insists in looking like he just woke up. </p><p>Which he did, TK admits to himself, because he's such a klutz that he had to go and crash into the bedside table. </p><p>“You sure?” Carlos doesn’t sound so convinced. </p><p>“Are you asking if I'm sure I can put sweatpants and a sweater on my own?” TK shakes his head. “I might have a knee injury, but I am not an invalid.”</p><p>He decides to prove that he actually is able to function while Carlos turns back to the suitcases, ignoring the sharp feeling beneath his skin. Even if his knee feels like it’s got needles piercing through and reaching the nerves underneath, TK is stubborn enough to get those sweatpants on. </p><p>Only he canʼt — his leg refuses to move and he doesn’t feel his foot so he canʼt lift it up. He manages to punch through the left leg before giving up and choosing to work on the hoodie, which he is able to tame down and get past his head and on his torso and arms with relative ease. He brings one of the strings to his mouth and chews nervously on it, waiting on Carlos to turn around and help him. </p><p>Carlos is wrestling his way with some soft gray pants that scream <i>APD</i>, but soon enough heʼs back, kneeling once again in front of TK, who's been tapping on the floor with the one foot that doesn’t feel like it’s been trampled by a bus. </p><p>“Were the pants rebelling against you?” he jokes, but he sweetly cups TKʼs foot in his left hand and lifts it, looping the leg into the piece of clothing as painless as he can. Yet, TK can't help the hiss that escapes his throat when his knee is forced to stretch — ever so slightly, ever so gently — to fit into the sweatpants. “Now, here, can you stand on your good leg?” Carlos asks. </p><p>“I guess so,” TK replies. He places one hand on Carlosʼ shoulder and pushes himself off the bed with the other, balancing his weight so it shifts from his right knee to the left. “It hurts,” he admits. </p><p>Carlos throws an arm around TKʼs waist and helps him to keep his balance as they slowly worm their way out of the room and into the lobby, where an attentive receptionist calls a cab for them and helps TK into the vehicle. </p><p>The ride to the hospital is silent. TK tries to chomp down the pained whines that accompany every turn the driver takes a little too harshly; Carlos attempts to soothe him drawing circles on his back and whispering encouraging words into his ear. TK finally rests his head on Carlosʼ shoulder, and despite the uncomfortable position he finds relief almost instantly as he inhales his boyfriendʼs scent. </p><p>The sun is up in the sky when they reach the hospital, and TK doesn’t register much of the following moments as heʼs whirled away from Carlos and pushed onto a chair, promptly wheeled away from the entrance through doors that forbid anyone who isn’t staff or injured from trespassing. </p><p>“Wait a second,” he complains, one finger up in the air, but the nurse ignores him and pushes him further into the premises. “My boyfriend, he must be worried—” </p><p>“Now, Mr. Strand, this will only take a few minutes and heʼll be allowed inside as well.” The nurse stops in front of the X-ray room and opens the door. “We will have a look at that knee and then weʼll discuss what painkillers you should take.” </p><p>“No, no painkillers,” he says, wincing when heʼs helped up from the wheelchair and into the room. They haven’t had the time to tell the nurses at the station about it, and he’s thought that, since he’s conscious, he could warn them about his decision not to take any kind of painkillers — not even the non-opioid ones. “I, uh, I can’t take any.” He doesn’t elaborate, he really doesn’t want to. It’s bad enough that he can’t muster up the courage to tell a complete stranger about his past choices — being an addict isn’t something that’s going to go away because of a three hundred and thirty-three days of sobriety, but he’d rather keep it that way and remain an addict in recovery than having to start off from square one because of one isolated accident.</p><p>The nurse stops to look at him for a second, assessing his words and nodding curtly. “I will tell your doctors and make sure it’s noted down on your history. Now, let me help you up on the stretcher,” she instructs, her hands already latching to TK’s sides to make it easier for him to move. “This procedure will only take a few minutes, and Dr. Hernandez will see you shortly after.” </p><p>A couple of hours after they crossed the doors — there’s a slight delay in his results since the hospital is suddenly swamped with injured people from a multiple car crash — TK is lying on a bed, his right leg up in the air, Carlos by his side, and Dr. Hernandez explaining to him how lucky heʼs been. </p><p>“Injuries like this one are tricky,” the doctor says, tapping TKʼs chart on the bed bars. “It could have been far worse, with your medical history, and given that you had an accident at your job last week.”</p><p>TK feels Carlos’ hand on his shoulder, squeezing tight. He feels immediately grounded and comforted as the doctor keeps unfolding what’s going to happen to him in the next few weeks. “Mr. Strand, I want you to understand that refusing to take painkillers is going to make this recovery essentially hell for you,” the doctor goes on, her hand now gesturing in front of her. “You have a knee dislocation that we have managed to fix for the time being, but you’ll need rest and it’s going to be painful. Have you rethought your initial refusal of medicine?”</p><p>“I will be fine,” TK reassures her, grimacing as he readjusts his position and pain flares up once again. He will have to endure it, for as long as it takes, because he doesn’t want to risk it. “I can get through this. I’d rather not have any kind of painkillers.” He inhales sharply, Carlos’ hand tightening over the hospital gown he’s been forced to wear, when the readjusting movement makes his knee protest in pain. “Should I rest?”</p><p>“I strongly recommend a surgical procedure,” Dr. Hernandez tells him. “But since you’re in New York City for a short visit, that’s something your doctor at,” she trails off to check his chart, “Austin should decide as well. As for now, you must rest. Since there’s nothing else we can do here, once your paperwork is all done, you should be cleared to leave. That’ll take up some time, though.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Carlos says with a tight smile. “We’ll wait for as long as it takes. We’re both first responders, Dr. Hernandez, we know how a shift can get from calm to war-zone like in a matter of seconds.”</p><p>The doctor smiles back at him before excusing herself out of the room. When they’re alone once again, TK can feel Carlos relaxing by his side, although his hand never stops touching him.</p><p>“What time is it?” TK asks innocently, watching as Carlos checks his wristwatch and cringes. “You should go to the luncheon. It’s for the best.”</p><p>“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Carlos tells him, a frown forming between his brows. “Stop trying to make me leave you alone in a hospital when you can’t walk on your own. Or anytime you’re in a hospital. Or, you know, anytime at all, for that matter.”</p><p>TK sighs. He knows his coma from the year before — after he got shot and took several days to wake up — had taken a toll on everyone, but especially on his father and his boyfriend. Carlos has yet to get over his fear of seeing TK in a hospital bed again, and yet, here they are.</p><p>“I’m going to be okay. And you should totally go. They’ll be waiting for you.”</p><p>“I texted Kinkaid before,” Carlos confesses. TK shakes his head — he’s pretty sure she’s pissed at him for keeping Carlos at a hospital when he should be basking in all the glory of having won the Interstate Police Olympics. “She said to take care of you, and to tell you that you aren’t allowed to even go to the bathroom on your own from now on.”</p><p>“Oh my god, Carlos, did you tell her how I hurt my knee?” TK asks, scandalized and a bit embarrassed.</p><p>“Well, she asked,” Carlos shrugs. “It’s not as though you told me it was a secret. And by the way, we should really tell your father. He’s going to be so mad at me for keeping it from him if you don’t tell him straight away, before we leave New York City tomorrow.”</p><p>“But I thought—” TK trails off as he finally brings his eyes to roam over Carlos’ frame when he turns to his side to look at him. Carlos looks exhausted, eyes puffy and weary, and he’s dressed in a yellow sweater with chewed down strings that TK knows all too well. “Are you wearing my hoodie?”</p><p>Carlos looks down on himself and blushes a nice shade of pink that tinges his olive skin. TK wants to lick a stripe up his neck, but since they’re at a hospital he needs to keep himself in check. “Uhm, yeah?” Carlos finally says. “Your suitcase was already open and I was nervous and I—”</p><p>“Don’t fret,” TK whispers, tugging on Carlos’ arm until he manages to get his boyfriend to sit on the bed and they’re at the same eye level. “I love how my clothes look on you,” he continues, voice dropping an octave if that’s even possible. </p><p>“You mean, you love ripping them off me,” Carlos counteracts in the same whisper, leaning in so their lips are almost touching. </p><p>“That too,” TK smiles hungrily. “After all, my clothes always look a bit tight around your shoulders. It’s just helping you out of an uncomfortable situation.”</p><p>“Is that so?”</p><p>“Sorry to interrupt,” says a voice from the door, and they both jump apart, startled at the interruption. They look over to see a nurse fidgeting with a chart in his hands, looking everywhere but at them. “Mr. Strand, your paperwork has been finished. You’re free to go.”</p><p>“Oh, fine,” TK says gingerly, fighting down the urge to bite down on Carlos’ neck where it is exposed next to TK’s mouth. “Thanks.”</p><p>“Here, let me help you get dressed,” Carlos offers as the nurse steps out, clearly embarrassed. “You can’t go outside wearing a hospital gown.”</p><p>“Aren’t I sexy in it?” TK teases, only to shut his mouth up when he sees a pained light in Carlos’ eyes. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says, fingers finding their way to Carlos’ chin. “Look at me. I’m okay, see? It’s going to be fine. It’s just a dislocation.”</p><p>“It may need surgery,” Carlos mutters. TK can see now the way his hands are trembling wherever Carlos’ fingers are clutching the bedsheets. “I just—Sorry, I shouldn’t be so distressed about this.”</p><p>“Carlos, look at me, please,” TK instructs with a soft voice. When his boyfriend complies, TK caresses Carlos’ cheek in circular patterns, trying to infuse some certainty in him. “I know you’re scared, and I know you don’t want to show it for my own sake. I’m scared too, but it’s going to be fine.”</p><p>“Shouldn’t I be the one reassuring you?” Carlos lets out a wet laugh. TK lifts his fingers up until they’re wiping away Carlos’ sudden tears. </p><p>“Honey, we are one of a kind,” TK smiles. He leans in to give Carlos a peck on the lips before retreating, his knee protesting in pain. “How about you help me into my clothes, we go back to the hotel and you go to the luncheon? You might even make it in time.”</p><p>“I’ve already told you, TK, I’m not going anywhere without you. You need rest, and you’re getting it.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“No buts,” Carlos says strongly.</p><p>“I can get some rest while you’re having fun at your luncheon!”</p><p>“Why are you being so stubborn, Tyler Kennedy?” Carlos finally snaps. When he realizes it, he brushes a hand over his face and sighs heavily. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said it that way. I just don’t get why you want so badly for me to get the hell away from you when you’re hurt. TK, you have to understand that we’re in this together. We’ve been in this together for almost a year now. There’s no way I’m leaving you behind to go have some lunch with people I don’t even know, knowing you’d be alone.”</p><p>“I just think it’s unfair to you. You’re here to have fun, and me being a klutz just ruined it for you.”</p><p>Carlos shakes his head while he helps TK get dressed. “First of all, there’s nothing such as fun for me if you’re not around to share it with you. And second, you’re going to need help to even go to the bathroom, which is what got you into this <i>predicament</i> the first time. I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>TK sighs as he hoops his arms through the hoodie’s sleeves. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Carlos is right. He’s going to need help for a few days, and even more so when they’re back in Austin. He can already hear his father’s voice in his head, ranting about how he needs to be more careful and fawning all over him while he’s bedridden for weeks on end.</p><p>“Fine,” he relents. “But I want to make it clear that it’s against my will.”</p><p>“Duly noted,” Carlos huffs out, helping him finish dressing up. “Now, you’re good to go. Let me wheel you out of here.”</p><p>TK nods absent-mindedly as he sits down — not without effort — on the wheelchair. Suddenly, his mind is full of angry thoughts about himself — about how he keeps messing things up. This time it’s just his knee, and it seems to have a solution, but before this injury he’s always found a way to ruin everything. Getting shot by a kid, stomping over Carlos' heart, overdosing. He hasn’t been able to do anything right — except for keeping Carlos by his side for almost a year of official relationship — and he’s beginning to think that, rather than being cursed, he’s most probably not made to be fully happy.</p><p>“Hey, TK, what’s wrong?” Carlos asks as they reach the doors. TK shakes his head furiously, dabbing at his eyes to wipe unwelcome tears away. “Are you in pain? Why are you crying?”</p><p>“I just—” TK inhales deeply, steadying himself for what he’s about to say. “Why don’t you go first and hail a cab? If you wait for me, I’ll slow you down and we’ll never get a cab in this city.”</p><p>Carlos arches an eyebrow at him in silence, assessing the situation in the same way TK has seen him do with potential criminals — his eyes darken a little and his mouth twitches, exactly the way it did the night they had their little heart-to-heart at the precinct after TK’s stint at the bar. He purses his lips and then, he says, “Where’s all this nonsense coming from, TK? I’m not <i>going ahead</i> to hail a cab. You’re coming with me.”</p><p>“But I just—”</p><p>“This isn’t just about the knee injury, is it?” Carlos asks, not unkindly. He stops the wheelchair just shy of the curb, and crouches until he’s looking TK in the eye. “Whatever you’re thinking, TK, you have to know it’s just your head playing games with you. The pain can do that, sometimes.”</p><p>“It’s not the pain, Carlos! It’s the truth. I can’t walk properly. It’s going to be <i>weeks</i> until I’m back up again. I will just slow you down.”</p><p>“Why do I have a feeling you’re talking about much more than this?” Carlos repeats, gesturing towards TK’s leg. “Talk to me, TK.”</p><p>TK lets out a groan and hides his face in his hands before speaking, his words muffled by the flesh covering his mouth. “I just keep ruining everything. I just keep holding back the people I love and that’s just not fair!”</p><p>It isn’t until Carlos pries his hands off his face and TK can have a look at those brown eyes that he realizes what he’s just said.</p><p>They haven’t said those words to each other yet — even if TK is sure Carlos is bursting with the <i>need</i> to just speak them into life — and isn’t that another way in which TK is slowing them down, slowing <i>Carlos</i> down.</p><p>“You love me,” Carlos smiles at him, a hint of awe in his words. “How could you say that you ruin everything, that you’re slowing <i>me</i> down, when you’re the first to say <i>I love you</i>? That isn’t slowing anything down, by definition.”</p><p>“I just—” TK groans again, this time resting his head on Carlos’ shoulder. He isn’t comfortable at all, but the heat radiating off his boyfriend and the softness of his hoodie on Carlos are a soothing to the ache in his soul that he hasn’t been able to tame until now.</p><p>“I love you too,” Carlos says confidently. “This is exactly what I wanted to have in my life, TK.”</p><p>“What, an idiot boyfriend who can’t even go to the bathroom without dislocating a knee?”</p><p>“No, silly,” Carlos shakes with nadly suppressed laughter that makes TK tremble in mirth as well. “Having someone to love me back, the way you love me.”</p><p>“And how’s that?” TK manages to say cheekily, unable to keep up with the seriousness and heaviness of the conversation — he always resorts to jokes and lewd when it feels too hard to breathe.</p><p>“Fully,” Carlos replies, moving so he can look TK in the eye. “Completely. Shamelessly. Irretrievably. The same way I love you.”</p><p>There’s a fire in Carlos’ words and a sureness in his gaze that renders TK speechless. He can just barely nod, gulping around the lump in his throat that has taken all the space without asking for permission first.</p><p>Carlos clears his throat and kisses TK on the side of his neck, a fleetly peck of lips on skin that sends shivers down TK’s spine. It’s his favorite spot to be kissed on — despite his antics and his complaints, TK loves being vulnerable with Carlos, and he revels in the fact that Carlos knows exactly where to touch him to make him feel taken care of.</p><p>To make him feel loved.</p><p>“Okay, time to go back to the hotel and call your dad,” Carlos tells him, standing up.</p><p>“But I don’t want to!”</p><p>“I can do it for you,” Carlos offers. “You just have to lie down on the bed, and I’ll take the brunt of your father’s wrath.”</p><p>“I can think of some other ways to spend the time while I’m lying on that bed,” TK suggests, wiggling his eyebrows. Carlos laughs and takes his hand to help him up the wheelchair, intertwining his fingers. “Tons of things to do that don’t need my full range of movement.”</p><p>“You’re going to be the death of me, TK Strand.”</p><p>TK nods swiftly as he lifts their joined hands and drops a kiss on the back of Carlos’ hand. “Good,” he mutters. “Because I plan to be here, with you, until that very moment, Carlos Reyes.”</p><p>Carlos smiles softly at him, dragging him up closer to his body, and as they wait together for the cab to halt beside them, TK thinks that they’re going to be fine. That he’s going to be fine, because he’s finally not alone.</p><p>He’s got Carlos Reyes to love him.</p>
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